The Price of Freedom
by Raieth Star
Summary: KH/FF7 AU/fusion fic. Cloud, Zack and Leon try to find a way to save the worlds as the price for Cloud's freedom looms like a shadow. Not fully BBS compliant. Cloud/Zack/Leon in no particular order
1. Memories of a Broken World

This is a Kingdom Hearts AU/fusion fic that assumes a more final fantasy 7 approach to history and explanations (seriously replay the game and switch all references of "darkness/light" to "mako/lifestream" and all "kingdom hearts" to "the promised land" and things start to sound very familiar….). Rather than focus on the destiny trio, who are still hugely important, this story focuses more on the final fantasy characters. It contains spoilers for the series as a whole and assumes at least some familiarity with the general sequence of events. I expect the story to grow more AU as it progresses, especially once the organization shows up (I'll probably have a whole side story dedicated to them…), as they will be the most changed.

The story proper (not counting flashbacks of course) starts roughly two years before the start of Kingdom Hearts, and mostly disregards Birth by Sleep's timeline. As such the nature of the Organization members changes a little. As many are native to the Final Fantasy world they will be Nobodies of existing FF characters (mostly 7) rather than originals. For conveniences' sake they will still have the same Kingdom Hearts names (even if the reason for their names is stupid).

The title of this fic is taken from the song of the same name on the Crisis Core Soundtrack. I consider it the image song for the fic as a whole. I highly recommend giving it a listen as the crisis core soundtrack is really good.

Note: I will endeavour to make all references to the powers known as Darkness and Light be capitalized and to leave the mundane descriptions of ambient light levels as lower case. Also the characters are not aware of what the "official" names of the various Heartless are till later, so sorry for the roundabout descriptions.

Warnings: Angst (seriously, Cloud and Leon as main characters, were gonna have enough angst to pave a city here….), violence, and sexual situations (including the strange 2.5 thing going on here.) This is a Yaoi (boy on boy) fic, if you don't like that then stop now.

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**Chapter One - Memories of a broken world.**

_The planet screamed, rage and fear and desperation all rolled into one. It blurred his senses, the world around him fuzzy and distant. The endless waves of clawed black oil and glittering yellow eyes swarmed like a living ooze, boiling from the floor and in his mind like tar, hot and suffocating. Raw, bleeding fingers dug into his skull in a futile attempt to block out the sound, endless babbling screams his ears didn't hear. Why he thought it would work this time he couldn't say. Instinct and something else made him swing the stolen/borrowed/given blade in his hands, the black shapes squealed, but he couldn't hear over the raw sound of the planet drowning out everything else. The ground was hard under his knees and he was distantly aware of the blood running coldly down his skin, black smoke boiling out of him like dry ice. Yellow eyes crowded closer and closer, an escape from the torment in sharp claws and stuttering motion. A release from the soundless screaming, to stain the white tiles black and red. A promise to end the pain whispered by something with no voice. So much pain…_

/Come on Spike! Get up!/

_The almost voice was strange in it's panic. Shouldn't be panicked, was never panicked. He snapped his attention forward and called on his tainted gift for destruction. The rolling flames swept through the black swarm, driving them back for the moment; the dark power casting age dulled stone walls in shades of purple and blue. The ground was cold under his hands, it was so hard to breathe with blood filling his mouth, chasing the stench of death down his throat. Oily black smoke clogged his lungs and stung his eyes, he was drowning in the cloying sent of Darkness. Sweet and thick, and such a waste, would be better to drown then to give in to the sweet taste. But it tasted of things he had lost and why shouldn't he succumb? So sweet; strychnine laced honey and overripe fruit, a promise to make the voices stop screaming in his head._

_A strong hand lifted him up by the elbow. A swirl of red fabric and the smell of gunpowder was all he could sense through the cracks in his mind. The planet was screaming so loud. Begging and pleading and cursing and tearing; tearing apart, shattering into a million fragments, becoming lost in the black sea that watched with yellow eyes. Soon to become nothing._

_"Move Strife." The voice was deep and rich, like liquid black velvet across his ears. His legs refused to move._

_A bitter bark of a laugh sounded with his voice, thick blood splattering the tiles. "Run. Leave me and run." Can't leave, must watch, bear witness to the end of it all, almost nothing left now._

_The brass claws at his elbow dug in deeper and his weight was taken up by a demon stitched into human flesh._

_Why didn't he just run? It was so hard to think with all the screaming. The once full and comforting voice twisted and hollow now. So little left, struggling so hard to maintain one last stronghold. Glittering bladed promises slipping in, like toxic waste seeping into a garden. His fingers drew blood from his scalp, staining thin spun gold red, if the planet didn't stop screaming his head was going to explode._

_The dark sea of yellow eyes surged behind them. Lit by the stray sparks from the sword forgotten fingers refused to release. A not so hollow puppet without strings, an endless corridor, a demon bound in leather and brass, an ocean of death lapping at their heels. Home…just want to go home…_

_/_Just a little farther Spike, you're almost there./

_"Almost where?" Fresh blood made the words thick as heavy eyelids blinked open. The torch light was long faded and his eyes, strange, slitted, glowing, cursed eyes, like the skies of lost childhood innocence, cast everything in shades of azure; cold light for a cold world. _

_There, in the distance, a pulsing light. Warm and bright and painful, a shuddering stuttering heartbeat of light, calling, begging, urging, dying. _

_"A door?" The voice at his ear, as dark the blood staining the tiles underfoot, nearly drowned out by the screaming of the stars, was almost surprised, almost confused, but never anything at all._

_A moth to the flame, knowing the fiery burning end yet unable to draw away. The door was radiant and beautiful, embedded with intricate glowing swirls of white. But it was fading, the pulsing light growing dimmer. His hand felt heavy as he reached for it; mad, raving, broken screaming echoing in his skull. To far gone to even remember why it hurts, why everything is going dark._

_Fear, terror, panic and still pale fingers reach for the portal. It burns, and sears, and claws pain deep into sensitive flesh, a blinding flash revealing a deep sucking void. Twisting and turning and squeezing, ripped apart into a million pieces and finally the voices in his head were drowned out. Now there were only his own screams to fill the void._

OOOOOOOOOO

He awoke, a jerk and sharp inhale of breath the only outward sign of his nightmare. There was a moment of blurred confusion before he remembered where he was. A broken building on a broken world lost in a twilit realm far from the source of his nightmares. He lay back down on the simple bed and stared at the peeling paint on the ceiling, listening as his breathing slowed and deepened.

/_You okay?_/ Calloused fingers brushed his hair, not a strand moving.

He closed his eyes and leaned into the phantom contact, more than he deserved. "Yeah. Just a dream."

A slow smile, /_Wanna talk about it?/_ They both already knew what the answer was.

"No." He swung up and out of the low bed. The persistent memory of emotions told him he was supposed to feel gratitude for such concern, but there was nothing. Ever since-

He shook his head to clear such thoughts. They would do him no good, and he knew that if he started thinking about it now, he would not be able to stop. The pull of memories so terrifying that nothing his imagination could conjure could compare to the stark truth of what his past held, bright lights and cold tables...

He caught a glimpse of himself in the large mirror on the far wall of his small room as he rose from the broken and dusty bed. The sight froze him, as it always did, his body so changed it was hard to reconcile with himself. Thick corded muscle wrapped around his small frame, dark veins and pale scars forming a network across skin faded with the lack of sunlight. Golden blonde hair in uncontrollable spikes hiding the only part of him he recognized as his own. The luminescent blue orbs glowering from beneath the gravity defying spikes, pupils almost round in the gloom, not quite normal, not quite not. They traced the path of darkened veins across his body and wondered if he would ever grow used to seeing the evidence of his past that flowed so thickly through his veins it coloured his blood.

He watched as his left hand, twisted and warped from the energy the glowing door held, rested on his breastbone. The leathered, tar black flesh, more clawed weapon than not, in stark contrast to the massive white scar over his sternum. He could feel the heart that pulsed within, strong and sure, filled with a Light that was softer than moonlight reflected off black smoke, and as alien as the wing that curled behind his left shoulder.

Black, tinted purplish-blue with his blood, looking more like a weapon than something made of flesh and bone. Thin skin stretched over delicate, yet unbreakable spines in a parody of a bat's elegant hand. Two inner 'fingers' that ended in double points, and the third, the leading edge, broken into six deadly spines that smoothed to a single point like some deadly plant as his shook off the dream. Instead of a thumb there was an arrow of bone framed by two fingers that ended in claws, they flexed as his hands fisted.

He could still remember when the wing had ripped through his body, Darkness so concentrated it warped his very flesh, tearing and reshaping muscle, bone and sinew. A shudder ran through his small but powerful frame, the wing rustling softly. He could taste the sterile lab the memory was so strong. Needles and scalpels and white lab coats.

/_Hey, come on, let's go get something to eat./_/

The forced cheerfulness washed over him, and his lips quirked in the ghost of a remembered movement. The taste of feeling soothed the soul deep hollow ache that saturated his entire being. He knew he was broken, possibly beyond repair, a defective puppet tossed aside and forgotten. The alien, yet familiar and welcome, Light warmed in his chest. A faint candle leading lost souls home.

/_Enough moping already, get dressed and get going, I'm starving._/

He flicked his wing dismissively. It was amazing how emotive the appendage could be with the smallest of movements. It had been a while since they hunted, he could feel the creeping hunger seep into him from the imprisoned heart. Quiet need that filled him with longing. The longing to be whole again.

He laced his fingers together and lifted them above his head, stretching his body to the fullest. He watched in the mirror as muscles corded and shifted under his skin, his wing mimicking the movement. The long finger-like bones reaching for the stone roof, the dusky membrane pulled taut and the flexible spines on the leading edge flaring out in a mockery of feathers. He forced his back to continue to arch with methodical slowness, feeling for any stiffness and finding none. His hands touched the ground behind his feet and he bent his elbows until his hair brushed the ground before firming all his core muscles and lifting his feet with the same care he bent back with. He felt his arms tremble with effort as he straightened his elbows into a full handstand. Rotating his shoulders and settling his weight, his wing brushed the cold ground as it swung through the manoeuvre. Waiting until the trembling subsided and the blood had rushed to his head, he bent his knees towards his belly as slowly as he could, bringing his feet back to the ground. He tucked his elbows around his legs once he was folded in half, and felt the muscles in his lower back pull tight. He flapped his wing once to try and loosen them; even after all this time his body was still not adjusted to having such a heavy, unbalanced weight on his shoulders. Finally he straightened upright and twisted his spine left and right, the motion causing several vertebrae to pop back into place.

Satisfied he was stretched fully he let his muscles relax, wing drooping low under its own weight. As he walked across the small neglected room that served as his current home to get dressed, a flicker of something resembling loneliness brushed against him. It had been months since he had seen a living person. His fingers lingered on the brass and leather gauntlet as he pulled and strapped it onto his warped and twisted left hand, not since he had failed to protect-

_"NO VINCENT!" _

_"D-don't let them have my heart, Strife." A twisted smile, and a gentle touch. "No regrets." _

He shook himself free of the past, the memory of blood warming his hands.

/_It wasn't your fault./_/ Warm arms wrapped around his neck.

The clawed gauntlet creaked as it flexed. "If I had been faster-"

The phantom arms tightened their hold. /_It wasn't your fault. You did everything you could./_/

"And it wasn't enough." He pulled on his dark clothes roughly, months of stains making the original colour hard to determine, and secured his stolen /_borrowed_/ thigh and shoulder armour straps with practiced movements that were not entirely his own. The long and tattered red cowl still smelled faintly of Vincent, windswept smoke and gunpowder. He pulled the worn fabric close around his neck and shoulders, the high collar concealing his lower face from view. Bending he fastened his boots and secured the leather straps that held baggy pant legs tight to his shins. His fingers lingered on the small tears around threadbare knees, it was probably time for new clothes. He drew the leather straps of Vincent's' cowl tighter around him, he didn't want to go near people again. Bad things happened when he went near people.

The leather grip of the massive Buster Sword was a strangely familiar weight in his hand. He hesitated as he lifted it. Memory told him he should feel guilt or shame or something for what he was about to do, yet he could feel nothing. He also supposed he should feel grateful for that small blessing, but all he felt was hollow; a small drop of water falling endlessly down a well, never to reach the bottom. The heart trapped in his ribcage thumped firmly, leaking emotion, trying in vain to fill the void in his being. He swung the Buster Sword over his shoulder onto his back, careful not to harm his wing where it rested against his back, claws hooked onto his pauldron.

"You should stop wasting my energy. I know that feeding upsets you."

/_Spike…_/

This was an old argument. They had to feed, or they would fade away. His life may not have been worth much, but survival was a strong instinct. Stronger than the void that pulled at him and called so seductively. The more energy the heart he carried used, the more often they had to feed. However, the more emotion he was filled with, the more _whole_ he felt.

Breathing in the faded scent of his lost saviour, he steeled himself and opened the door, ignoring the icy tingle of fear creeping up his spine at the thought of entering the hallway his faintly glowing blue eyes scanned quickly. Nothing but peeling paint, broken glass and long shadows.

Releasing the breath he held, he closed the door behind him and locked it with tainted magic pulled from the shadows around him. Stalking down the old musty hallway, booted feet making no sound on the dusty carpet; he stayed low to the ground, body tense and ready for an attack, knowing from painful experience that the Buster Sword would be useless in such tight confines. The empty window frame at the end of the hall was his goal, the only exit this floor offered, as the stairs downstairs were purposefully collapsed some time ago. Hopping onto the sill his wing spread fully, it knew how to fly, yet still he couldn't, wouldn't, unable to give up that last little voice that screamed, _still human_.

He flexed his body and leaned out the window, feeling like a bow pulled taut waiting to release. He savoured the feeling of wind tugging his spikes of hair and gravity pulling him to the ground far below. The sheer physical sensation caught his breath, and the tiny twinkling lights from the worlds above cast everything below him in a soft glow, softening the edges of the broken city. Body vibrating with the need to move, he forced his awareness outward.

Darkness saturated this world, seeped from every stone, a sweet murmuring fog that masked other smells, other presences. His eyes scanned the twisted wreckage of the city, the blue glow of his eyes tinting everything even as it revealed the nights darkest secrets.

Movement.

His whole focus snapped to that point, a feral grin hidden behind blood red fabric. Wing trembling and his fingers digging into the cracked wood of the windowsill, muscles singing with tension and the wind ripping quickened breath from his lungs. This was when he felt alive. This infinitely short moment frozen between strained stillness and explosive movement.

His muscles snapped and he launched forward, a dark arrow against the starlit sky. His wing flapped with a crack of whip-corded muscle and straining tendons. The Darkness in his veins sang as he called on its power, the shadows around him shifting as if alive.

His prey never saw it coming.

The Heartless screeched in pain as the purple-black flames washed over its humanoid form, it managed to turn yellow eyes upwards just in time to see him fold his wing and dive down, claws first.

The Heartless screamed and hissed in his mind and leapt to meet him, calling for its kin. An answering cry burst out of his chest as he tore into it from above, brass and wing claws digging deep, the shadowy flesh parting like so much smoke.

Sensing its chances, the large Heartless desperately tried to escape, scoring deep marks on his shoulder armour, claws catching on the metal bolts. He reached with his human hand and wrapped the floor length antennae around his fist. The creatures' silent grating screeches grew more desperate as he pulled its head back. He flexed his brass claws before plunging them deep into the doomed creatures' chest.

Its death rattle raked talons across his mind but the solid treasure within shadowy ribs more than made up for that. His fist closed on the gem like object before ripping it out. The once human shade gave one last pained sound before melting away into oblivion, nothing more than sweet smoke on the wind.

He opened his eyes and stared at the treasure in his leather and brass clad fist. A heart shaped gem so dark it bent the light around it. Like a living thing it beat with a soft pulse in his palm, warm and steady.

There was a needy wordless whine in his mind.

He closed his eyes and ran a thumb across the inky black surface, coaxing the echo of emotion from the dark heart. He savoured the taste, fear, anger, loneliness, hope, despair.

/_Please…/_/

He flicked his wing, annoyed. "Shut up Zack." They both knew he couldn't eat here, it wasn't safe. He tucked the black heart into the tiny pouch on the back of his belt and flexed his wing. It was surprising that the noise of the fight had not called more to them. The larger humanoid Heartless always hunted in packs. He crouched, coiling like a spring before launching into the air, weightless for a breath before perching on the crumbled remains of a building. There were so few Heartless remaining on what was left of this nameless world. They would have to move on.

_/Please Cloud, I need…please…I…_/

He snorted, Zack only called him by his proper name when he wanted something. Launching himself back into the air, his wing making the long jumps almost flight, he retreated back to his temporary home.

OOOOOOOOOO

He was soon secure in his room once more, his gauntlet and armour pulled off, sword resting against the wall. He paused in front of the bed, reaching out with his senses to be sure that everything was safe.

/_…Please…/_ The voice was little more than a husky whisper.

He retrieved the heart and held it in his blackened, clawed hand. His fingers, so like the Heartless he hunted, tightened around the pulsing stone and placed it over the cloth hidden scar on his breastbone, sinking to the bed as he did so.

_/Ooooh, gods yes_./Warmth spread from the contact like fire across an oil spill. Snippets of emotion and memory flashed behind his eyelids.

Tall spires glinting in sunlight, proud and fierce.

Laughter like fireflies dancing in the summer breeze.

Sinking darkness and racing fear.

Black shadows and yellow eyes.

He convulsed, muscles and tendons responding to stimuli that were long gone.

/_Cloud…AHH…_/ His nerves screamed as they were played, drowning in pure sensation. Phantom memories clawed at his skin, running through muscle and bone and nerve, cutting and tearing and caressing and good, so very painfully good.

He couldn't stop, couldn't even hear, the sounds that started deep in his throat, mind lost to the liquid fire spreading through his body. He clung desperately to the other within him, the anchor that held him here, and now, as the stars sung and the void screamed.

"Ahhh…ngh" They were so tangled now, almost one being, the edges fuzzy and forgotten. A writhing mass of nerves and emotion and memory. Overwhelming heat pooled in his body, coiling and shifting, suffocating and liberating all at once.

Phantom lips found his and he arched to meet them, twisting and moaning under probing hands that brushed nerves and enflamed skin. White fire ran down his spine as it arched off the bed. "Zack!" The worlds exploded behind his eyes and he screamed.

Warm arms encircled him and black spikes of hair brushed his chin. /_…Cloud…I'm so sorry._/ Guilt and love and need.

He panted on the bed, his body limp and unresponsive. He managed to shake his head. "No." He swallowed, the words sticking in his throat. "No regrets."

Calloused hands carded through his sweaty bangs, /_Oh Spike./_/ The rapid heartbeat in his chest out of sync with his ragged breath. /_If only things were different._/

He laughed weakly, the afterglow of emotion allowing him that much. "Zack…If it wasn't for you I would be in a populated place." He shifted, freeing his trapped wing from under his shoulder. "We both know Heartless are nothing compared to a real person."

A deep sigh, /_And once again you are right._/

He weakly waved a hand, "The guilt will fade once it's fully absorbed." To be replaced with hunger for another, he didn't add.

/_I'm not sure I want the guilt to fade._/ A contemplative pause. /_We have to move on don't we?_/

"Yeah." He propped himself up on his elbows and surveyed his stained and torn clothing, the original mismatched colour hard to remember. "We need new clothes."

/_Are you sure?_/ He wasn't referring to the clothing.

The air left his lungs with an 'oof' as he flopped back down. "I think we're ready." He curled up on his side, wing wrapping around his shoulder, claws briefly scratching at his scalp. "Sleep first." It seemed he did nothing but sleep these days, despite the lack of pleasant dreams.

A soft chuckle, /_It's too bad this is the closest to sex we get._/

He rolled his eyes under his lids.

/_Yeah, yeah, I know./ _His hair ruffled. /_Night Spike._/

A whisper from under a demon's wing. "Zack?"

/_Yeah?_/

"I wish I could love you like they did…" The dusty mattress swallowed his mumble as he slipped from consciousness.

/_I know Spike. I know._/

OOOOOOOOOO

_Lungs expand, pull tainted, thickened air in with a hiss. _

_Screaming, screeching, pleading, begging, clawing whispers no ears could hear._

_Lungs contract, push air out into bubbles of shimmering oil._

_Dying, fading, running, tearing at thoughts and sanity and sense of self. _

_Air in, hiss. _

_A million voices cry out for blood._

_Air out, bubble._

_A million more cry for salvation._

_"Cloud!" Thump. "Cloud, let me know you're alright!" Thump, thump._

_Muscles contract. Blood pumps. Thoughts stir. Who? Was that his name?_

_"CLOUD!"_

_The fluid stings sensitive eyes as it always does, the curved glass reflecting the soft blue glow. Past the scratches marring the inside lay another tank of liquid, another pale figure suspended within, large fists pressed against the similarly marred glass. Dark hair so like his own triggered a name, Zack._

_Thump the fist lands one last time, fingers spreading wide, "Oh thank the worlds." A great rush of silvery bubbles float up like fractured dreams from a dark mask hiding all but bright violet orbs. "You had me worried for a while Spike." The voice echoes in the thick liquid, somehow solid in a way that dulls the voiceless screams. "Sorry about the silence, they turned off the speaker this time." A weak chuckle. "It took me a whole story to realize I was talking to myself." _

_Twitch, that was a blatant lie, Zack always knew. Bright blue orbs stared into pleading violet, the numbness fading with the constant chatter._

_A more honest laugh, warm despite the poor quality of the microphone in the other's mask, "Ah, you're right, that was a lie. Can't ever pull the wool over on you eh Spike?" Black spikes of hair waved in the viscous fluid. "Have I ever told you about the two loves of my life?"_

_Silence, blissful silence in the back of a weary mind. It didn't matter if he couldn't remember if he had heard this story before._

_"They're as different as can be from each other. My little icy kitten, and my fiery songbird, I'm so lucky to have two special people. Although one of them is certainly a lot closer than the other." A lusty chuckle. "But I'm sure you don't want to hear about that. I bet you got a girl waiting back home for you."_

_A rare coherent thought, he wondered if the flowers marking her place were in bloom._

_"You'll have to introduce me when we get out of here. Then we can all go for a picnic or something. I mean my girl makes the best apple pie in the whole city I bet. I think they'd really like you, and you can never have too many friends right? I mean you'd have to get through kittens' icy shell but once you do…" _

_The words stopped making sense long ago, but the warm friendly sound lulled heavy lids closed. _

_Air in, air out._

_Air in, air out._

OOOOOOOOOO

Cloud woke slowly, the echo of a thousand lost planet's cries ringing his ears. Stretching he rose from the bed, they would leave this dead, nameless world as soon as he was awake enough to open a portal.

He felt for the faint voices of the heavens that still echoed in his skull, calling on the gift he had possessed since he was born. After his…change…it was harder, but if he focused he could still hear the voice of the planet, of all the planets in this realm between realms.

Despair echoed in his mind. Empty shells and broken hearts.

All but one.

He hesitated, that voice had not been there before. Had a new world been created in this strange twilit realm between Light and Dark? The voice was disjointed, and echoed strangely in his mind, sounding both broken and somehow more whole. But it was filled with something all the other worlds had lost.

Hope.

The calling of his family line drew him to that voice. Something of great importance was going to happen there. But not yet, not for several years. His mother had called them Locks, tangled knots of probability that needed only a key event to unravel. That he could feel the event coming so far out… the future of many worlds would depend on one small, seemingly insignificant event.

A child of shadow and light would appear holding a great power once intended for another. Power to save the worlds, power to destroy them, irrevocably bound to the balance of all, the darkest shadow cast by the brightest light, and it must be the hound of fate that finds the child first.

He fell to his knees as the images pierced his mind, three paths, three realms, three locks, three keys. The day swallowed by the night in order to shape the dawn. One must lead to the next, or the balance would fall, the universe swallowed by Darkness on one path and Light on the other.

He shuddered and pried bloodied fingers from his skull, the vision broken. Even if he wanted to travel to a different world he knew he would be forced to visit that one first. The Curse of Strife; like his mother before him, he was drawn to major events, forced to bear witness. That curse was why he had been in the great city of his homeworld. The call so loud it had rendered him unconscious when he couldn't follow.

The breaking of his body and the end of the world.

His eyes found the large blade of the Buster Sword on their own, the metal gleamed in the dim light. Green cat-slit eyes mocked him from his memories. Black feathers and silver hair, dull leather and gleaming metal, all tied together with mocking laughter. The one heart that he could not find, the one heart he wasn't sure he should find.

The heart in the cage of his ribs pulsed in a stretch. _/Morning Spike. Sleep well?/_

Shaking his head he rose to his feet, and moved to prepare himself to leave this place forever. He strapped on Zack's armour, slung the Buster sword over his shoulder and pulled on Vincent's gauntlet before ducking down and grabbing the small duffle bag of things he had acquired since his escape. A couple of potions, a handful of munny and a few other odds and ends from the worlds he had visited after his desperate flight from a dying world.

_/We're leaving right away?/_

He paused, "Yeah. Why?"

_/Do you know where we're going?/_

He slung the bag over his shoulder, wrapping his wing around it before tugging the cowl over them both. Flaunting his corruption in a populated area was a good way to get himself killed. "A Lock."

Curiosity, it would be the first time they had visited one. _/How big?/_

"Big." He shook his head, possibly the biggest the worlds had seen since the days of legend his mother told him of. "Ready?"

A nod, and a flash of white teeth. _/Let's mosey./_

The Darkness was always whispering to him, tempting syrupy sounds to drown in. Usually he didn't listen to the whispers, just let them wash over him like waves on a beach. But now he dove into the Dark headfirst, it was shockingly cold as he gathered it around himself. Sweet and cloying, rotting meat and sour wine, soft fingers and stale air. He dug into the barrier that held the Darkness at bay and felt it tear like flesh, thick as intestines it pooled out of the tear at his feet, cold and sweet and calling.

He paused for a moment, steeling himself, before stepping into the swirling purple, red and black. His skin crawled and his wing flexed, with reluctant effort he pushed the sticky sweetness away from himself and carved a space with his will. It pulled at him, and called to him, the vapour pooling in his lungs and seeping into his bones, making him stronger, yet more hollow. That empty feeling the reason he shied away from this place.

He turned and pulled the tear closed behind him. The drifting tendrils of Darkness the last signs of life the dead world would ever see.


	2. Ghosts from the Past

Update Note: (Sept 16/12) - Chapter one has received some minor grammar/spelling edits.

Viewpoint switching begins in this chapter and follows a simple rule. 'One perspective at a time.' This means that character switching can only happen at the obvious breaks and not before. The two of them think very differently so it may be a little jarring the first time it happens, so I apologize in advance.

**Warning**: This story contains copious amounts of angst, graphic violence, insanity, sexual situations and character death.

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**Chapter Two: Ghosts from the Past.**

Swirling chaos, colours sharp and shifting, each unique and somehow all the same. The fog seeped into Cloud's very bones, carving out the weak residual emotions Zack filled him with, leaving him a blank slate once more.

/_I hate this part. See you on the other side._/

The comforting voice faded under the shear weight of Darkness, retreating so as not to be drowned.

His eyes adjusted to the miasma, the cursed blue tint distorting the shapeless flow.

He reached out for the world of the Lock, it seemed to be aware of him now. It whispered of hope and the future, warm embraces and homemade soup. He was right, he would have been drawn to it anyway. The blonde had been walking without realizing it, carving a tunnel in the shifting colours of this strange place between worlds. Following that siren's seductive call, the faint light in the dark.

The closer he got, the louder the world grew, the fragmented voices all joined in one harmony. A choir with one song. Fragments of worlds too strong to fade away, too weak to stand alone.

Time was not something that could be counted on this path through the Darkness and he reached the strange world relatively quickly. Thankfully, the Light the world contained was not so bright it burned, instead it was a gentle warmth, calm and peaceful.

Gently he tore the fabric of the world and stepped through, careful to seal it completely behind him. Black was the sky above, distant worlds only pinpricks of light. Under his dark booted feet were shingles. One roof among many, and they stretched into the distance before running into a huge wall. There was a faint glow of yellowed light from the direction of the wall and the not-so-distant sounds of combat drifted through the almost still air. He closed his eyes and breathed deep, the Darkness's gift enhancing his senses.

Wet concrete, neon lights, desperate hope and crawling fear. A city of survivors, clawing and scrabbling and surviving, against a very real, ever present, shadow of death that clung to the back of his throat. His blood surged and his diaphragm screamed and his lungs burned and he bit back the urge to howl in primal need.

Instead, he exhaled until his stomach clutched at his spine, until spots swam behind his eyelids, before inhaling once more. Blood and death and shadow and light and hope and love lost and innocence squandered. The long road, pitted and broken but still there, the path to be walked on until the worlds ended. The world was the city, the city was the world. A city of paths, a world that travelled. What a notion.

He liked this world he suddenly decided as he opened his too blue eyes in the star light. The sounds of combat drew closer, carried on a breeze laden with the scent of death and Darkness.

Darkness that whispered in the back of his skull. Intimately familiar pinpricks of presence concentrated below him out of sight, and something else. Something unique, a flash of Light that he had never met, yet was familiar nevertheless. A racing storm, ozone and smoke, like lighting laced rain over burning grass. Musky and animalistic, wild and untamed. Light so shadowed it could be mistaken for Dark, it sung a proud song in the base of his skull, a will of steel and a damaged heart. Curious as to who could possess such an interesting Light he looked down into a roughly triangular opening between the buildings. Not quite a courtyard, more of an awkward gap where several buildings met at odd angles. A single gas lamp cast an eerie yellow glow across the cobble stones. Shadows shifted and metal flashed as a human-looking figure fought off a wave of heartless, slowly retreating backwards, one arm occupied with retaining an overstuffed black duffel bag and weighed down with an equally overstuffed backpack.

He tilted his head, there was no point in attacking the Heartless like that. It would drive them back for only a little while. The sound of a sword striking stone echoed off the empty houses.

He felt something almost like emotion stir in his gut as he watched, Zack finally beginning to wake from his Darkness induced sleep.

The human fighter on the cobblestones below had a dark masculine beauty, controlled but not tame, elegant yet wild. A great hunting cat, sleek lines and powerful muscles, sheathed in slick black leather and white fur. Brunette hair clung to lightly tanned skin almost glowing with sweat. Something primal coiled through him, not quite emotion, not quite nothing.

His hand found the Buster Sword on it's own, the interesting man that smelled of storms was about to be overwhelmed by the scuttling Heartless. Letting his bag drop soundlessly to the roof tiles Cloud leapt off the edge. He was weightless for an endless moment, the wind stroking his hair like an old lover before he landed on the cobblestones.

The world froze. Lost skies blue met storm cloud grey, both men cautious yet curious. Cloud tore his gaze away from the questioning look and swung the Buster Sword at the seething black oil. The sea parted with the screams of the damned clawing his spine; the thick black smoke clogged his lungs like cotton candy and he drove the yellow eyes back.

The presence at his back made his spine twitch, made his eyes flicker to the flashing metal that was not his own. The not-a-feeling stirred, made him wonder what he was doing. The heart in his chest was quiet and struggling to become fully aware, urging his prison to look at the hunting cat. Something about the light reflecting off thick white fur draped over broad shoulders, the shifting of pale cotton never quite hidden under leather black as night, the sparkling silver around a surprisingly graceful throat and the deep, old, red that parted grey eyes.

The Heartless retreated from the flashing metal, this prey was not worth the time.

Without thinking and not in control, he leapt for the hunter, a cry on his lips. That not-a-feeling surged as the ringing of metal on metal echoed across the wet cobblestones. He flashed his teeth and his mouth opened without his permission.

"Hello Kitten. Miss me?"

OOOOOOOOOO

And Leon's day had started so well.

Aerith had woken him that morning, or what passed for morning on a world with no sun, with the news that another fragment had been added to the patchwork city world that had been named Traverse Town by the survivors gathered there.

Another fragment hopefully meant houses with food in them, and not more mouths to feed, resources were stretched thin as they were. The gnawing hunger was easy to ignore when it meant one of the children didn't go to bed hungry, but the lack of regular meals was beginning to wear on everyone. They needed to find more food and soon.

Aerith thought that maybe she could use her connection to the planet to grow plants in the endless night, but they needed soil and seeds first, something that had so far been impossible to get on this world. Cid's work at making a functioning gummy ship with the gummy blocks they had was promising, but with no way to navigate in the void they would be flying blind.

Leon shook his head and focused once more on his task. New sections often meant new Heartless and he couldn't afford to get careless. The new segment appeared to be made of mostly houses and so far they had all been stocked with food. He prioritized the fresh goods first, some things he hadn't even seen since their desperate flight several months ago. Meat, vegetables, eggs, there were even two containers of fresh milk, it was like Christmas had come early. The rest of his bag space was occupied with the powdered food mixes he could find and a selection of cans. He could have fit more in his two bags but he had run out of time. The Heartless had come for him.

He fled as far as he could, the more distance he could cover the better. He just didn't have the stamina he once did, he had to conserve his energy and avoid a fight as long as possible. As usual however, it became a running fight, using his gunblade for defence rather than offence, weighed down as he was with precious food. All he had to do was get back into the protective bubble Aerith had created and he'd be home free. Heartless couldn't enter any area held under her protection, but that very protection forced her to remain within the zone to maintain it.

He shifted the duffle-bag strap more securely on his shoulder as he flung another Heartless away from himself. His chest burned with effort, sweat poured down his back and his hair clung to his face. His gloved fingers slipped on the handle of his weapon, hands growing numb.

He wasn't going to make it this time he realized with a jolt. One too many skipped meals, one too many sleepless nights, one too many close calls. Whatever the reason, his strength was waning, vision blurred and distorted, every parry came later than the last, every step backwards more unsteady. He should just drop the food and run. Save his life now for a chance later.

No. He didn't have the strength for even that. He quickly made up his mind, he would run straight for the protected zone, get the food as close as he could and pray that the Heartless would leave it alone.

With one last great effort he attacked the shifting black shadows all around him, intending to break free of them and make a run for it. One last heroic effort to save the people he had come to see as his responsibility.

It wasn't working. He was going to die.

There was the sound of a body hitting the ground and the scrape of a blade along the cobblestones as a great swath of Heartless dissolved into foul smelling black mist. He turned to the sound on instinct and his world froze when his own steel grey eyes connected with eyes almost the perfect shade of summer blue, so bright, he could have sworn they glowed in the dim light. The stranger shifted his head to the side ever so slightly, the rest of his pale face hidden behind a dark cowl and pale bangs, before exploding into motion, breaking the strange trance.

A fresh burst of adrenaline pushed his muscles past the point of fatigue, and he fought with everything he had. His attention kept drifting to the other, small and compact and very male, far stronger than his size indicated if the massive blade he used was as heavy as it looked. The blonde lunged at the heartless with almost reckless abandon, long deadly sweeps of the strangely familiar blade punctuated with short, almost barking, exhalations of air. Something about the stranger was setting off the alarms in his mind as he drove back the Heartless still around him.

The shape of his armour, the way blonde spikes stood tall, the light reflecting almost purple from otherwise blue eyes, the pitted and worn slab of metal he used as a weapon.

The Heartless retreated.

Leon stood in shock, weapon still raised, frozen in wonder. He had never believed the Heartless could be made to retreat. He turned to the other warrior to thank him when the massive blade swung overhand towards his head with an all too familiar cry.

He reacted without thinking, only just blocking the blow in time.

A grin he had not seen outside his dreams in over five years flashed white teeth, blue eyes reflecting a particular shade of violet before words he prayed he'd one day hear again washed over him like a dream.

"Hello Kitten. Miss me?"

OOOOOOOOOO

Storm clouds, laced with gold and hints of blue, widened in shock over their crossed blades. Dusky lips parted, closed, then parted again, voice no louder than a whisper. "P-Puppy?"

Cloud's body leapt back, a flourish that he would never have considered caused the blade to reflect the low light. A smirk stretched his face and his body posed, the Buster Sword heavy on his shoulder.

Darkening grey eyes narrowed to slits, the long slashing scar between his eyes relaxing naturally into his scowl, "Zack's dead." The strange blade that seemed part gun didn't waver, despite the heavy breathing of it's wielder, exhaustion rolling off the other man like a fog.

A chuckle and Zack used Cloud's hand to rub the back of their head ruefully. "Yeah…" It was strange to not be in control of his own body. He watched as the very Zack-like gesture affected the man in front of them.

It was subtle, the tensing of his shoulders and a flicker of pink tongue on dry lips. Still, the blade did not waver. "What are you?" Cold and hard, like the steel in his hands.

Zack's head tilted and looked at the ground, one foot scuffing the stones, "I don't think you'd believe us."

A dark eyebrow arched, the scar twisting across his nose, and shifting steel eyes flickered around them, almost too fast to follow. "Us?"

The Buster Sword slid into it's place on his back. "Yeah." Zack tilted his head again and waved a hand at their hair. "You didn't think I'd bleach my hair did you?"

Those pale eyes widened once more before narrowing in caution. The tip of his unusual sword shifting so slightly the light almost didn't catch it.

A deep sigh, "Look, I can't keep this up much longer." He grinned one more time, "You and Spike play nice okay?" His eyes closed.

And like that Cloud was in possession of his body once more. He opened his eyes in a flash, not trusting the predator in front of him. His body shifted back into his normal stance, fingers itching for a sword, his knees suddenly weak from lack of energy.

He watched the face across from him. It was pensive, lips pressed together, eyebrows drawn down in thought. Emotions he couldn't name flickered across the strangely familiar face, before the brunette finally nodded to himself. He drew himself up straight and put his blade away, the liquid motion once more catching his attention, even hampered as it was with his heavy load.

"What's your name?"

"Cloud. You?"

"Leon."

_/Liar liar pants on fire./_ Sing-songed faintly in his head before fading into sleep.

He lifted his chin in an animalistic need to appear strong, he was so drained posturing was all he had to defend himself, he barely managed to keep his wing hidden against his back. "No it isn't."

Leon raised an eyebrow, "No." He agreed mildly. "It isn't."

Silence reined as the two hunters regarded each other. That not-a-feeling stirred again, tightened his guts and made his breath rasp harder than it should have. The heart in his chest was still, having worn itself to exhaustion.

Leon took a step towards him and Cloud instinctively stepped back. Something in the other's stance put him on guard, made him feel like he was backed into a corner. A raised eyebrow was the only response he received.

Cloud gathered his strewn thoughts together and straightened his back. "My things are back there." He gestured with his chin.

Those mercurial eyes flickered with something he couldn't read, "Very well. I trust you will catch up?" He adjusted the heavy looking bags once more.

A sharp nod.

They circled around each other, neither willing to show his back, before Leon half-ran, half-stalked away down a dark alley.

Cloud shuddered all over, somehow feeling like he just come out of a fight for his life. He straightened and leapt onto the roofs behind him. Blood quickening, he grabbed the strap of his bag and stalked the hunting cat in human form.

There was something desperate in the way Leon moved, his speed increasing once they rounded onto a wide road before stopping dead to catch his breath once he entered a large roughly circular courtyard, lit by two gas lamps in the centre, and bordering an enormous gated wall.

Cloud approached cautiously, there was an almost tangible barrier of Light between him and Leon, humming brightly in his mind like an electric fence. Likely the reason for the other's suddenly dropped guard. Cloud reached out to touch it. It numbed his hand and sent a tingling through his body. Not painful but uncomfortable and oddly invasive, almost like it was looking through him. Whatever the barrier found, it must have approved of, for the tingling disappeared and he was left with the impression of a door opening in front of him. Slowly he stepped through the barrier, nothing happened. He refocused on his target.

Leon now walked like he wasn't aware he was being hunted, head low in exhaustion. However, the tightness between his shoulder-blades and the half glances he gave the roofs said otherwise. With one last look around, the brunette hunter disappeared into a building hidden behind another, just off of the courtyard.

He perched on the roof for a moment, not sure if following was such a good idea. He could sense life all around him now. Dull points of Light hidden in the quiet buildings around him. The dark upper windows across from him lit up and the warm yellow glow bathed the dark street with warmth. A shadow crossed the curtains of an upper balcony door before the surprisingly loud sound of the latch unlocking reached his ears. A gloved hand opened the sliding glass door, the curtains shifting as Leon moved away.

Cloud watched the shadow until he was sure the other was as far back as he could sense. He flexed his wing. Zack trusted this stranger, it would have to be enough.

Silently he glided onto the narrow balcony, careful to tuck his wing away under Vincent's cloak before moving the curtains aside, wincing at the sudden change in light.

Leon was watching with calculating eyes as Cloud slid into the room. He was leaning in the doorway, arms crossed over his chest, the earlier bags nowhere in sight. Silently, feeling like a caged animal, Cloud slid his bag off his shoulder. The room was small, just a bed with a small desk and chair beside it, with a well worn dresser on the far wall. The grey and blue striped wallpaper was faded and everything had a thin layer of dust on it.

The dark clad man who smelled of storms shifted his weight. "Are-" He stopped, swallowed, tried again. "Was that really Zack?" A hint of something that tasted like longing coloured his tone.

Cloud nodded.

Steely eyes closed, his breathy exhale loud in the silence. He suddenly looked so tired, worn far beyond his twenty-odd years. "Who are you?"

He tilted his head, not understanding the question. "Cloud Strife."

Leon's eyebrows drew together, a flicker of memory crossing his face, caution once more entering his stance. "Strife?" His eyes narrowed, "What world do you call home?"

He knew that look, he had seen it all his life growing up. His shoulders hunched, hiding more of his face in Vincent's cowl, in an unconscious attempt to hide from that cold gaze. He was forced to look away, "A world that forgot it's true name." The wall brushed against his back, he could see the other's displeasure with that answer from here. His arms curled in protectively, "Hollow Bastion." He was trapped, he would not escape the beating that was coming, that this man was fully capable of delivering, that he was too weak to flee from, why had Zack weakened them so?

The look of caution was wiped away by sudden recognition. "You…"

Cloud flinched, violence always followed when people found out who he was. He slid along the wall, putting precious few inches between them.

Leon's voice was soft, lost in hazy memory, "You saw it coming didn't you?"

The echo of his world screamed in his ears, white lab coats and sharp scalpels.

"He tried to tell me…" He shifted and Cloud flinched.

Softer, "What happened?"

A whimper escaped his throat. Pain lanced down his nerves, skin cut open, ribs broken, blood pooling, darkness flowing. His eyes were locked onto the hunter in the room, watching for the slightest movement.

Sharp eyes softened and closed. "I see." He stepped forward and Cloud flinched back. "I'm sorry about this." Cloud spotted the tell-tale glow of magic as Leon raised his arm. "Sleep."

The spell hit him harder than he was expecting, and he slumped against the wall, it was almost funny, this was how he was going to die? Killed in his sleep by an old friend of Zack's? He forced himself to watch the grey eyes as he fell, there was no fear, just a strange sort of acceptance. There were worse ways to go. Being killed by another hunter wasn't so bad…

OOOOOOOOOO

Cloud fell awkwardly, sliding down the wall until the Buster Sword caught the floor, the weight of the weapon twisting him onto his side until he lay boneless on the floor.

Leon sighed and ran a shaking hand through his still sweat damp hair. What the hell was he going to do? He had seen the shift from one personality to the other, it had been too complete for him to easily dismiss as just a trick. Was Zack really somewhere inside this, Cloud?

The man fully expected to be killed in his sleep. He had seen that clearly right before the spell took effect. And before, at the mention of what happened, who he really was, those unbelievably blue eyes had lost focus, shoulders hunched, eyes darted. He behaved like a cornered, heavily abused dog. One wrong move from a flight or fight response.

"You can really pick them Zack." He crouched beside the blonde. It would have been just like him to adopt a stray like this. Shy, small, abused. He frowned, and possibly a seer of some sort if what he could almost remember was true.

He shook his head, that wasn't important right now. He reached out to make sure the other's eyes had closed, and wanting to double check that he really had seen his pupils constrict into slits when he first entered the room. He brushed blonde bangs aside, such an amazing colour, like spun sunlight, and softer than he was expecting. With the way it stood up he didn't think it'd be so much finer than Zack's. He hadn't realized his fingers had lingered until a cheek was pressed into his palm with a soft exhale.

He pulled his hand back like it had been burned. What was he thinking? This man had attacked him and claimed to be his dead lo-

He rubbed his temples, why were the attractive ones always so complicated?

A grimace, great that's all he needed, damn hormones. His sigh was long suffering, his libido still hadn't settled, even if puberty was years behind him now. "Come on, let's get you into bed."

Sleep spells were funny things. Any movement could break it, and fighters often resisted it to the point where even a touch could break the spell. It was three more castings before Leon got the blonde relieved of his weapon and on the bed.

One of the reasons it was extremely difficult was because every inch of him was solid muscle. Compact and built for combat, like the mountain wolves of his homeworld. He smelled like one too, old sweat and the outdoors, underlaid with a thick musk; testosterone, blood and sword oil, more animal than man. He shuddered and swallowed, his mouth suddenly dry.

His fingers hesitated before removing the blonde's armour, it was Zack's he realized with a start. He knew every buckle, every strap. Zack's armour, Zack's sword. This was either was his friend or his murderer.

That thought made him pull his fingers away before the blonde shook the spell again. It was too familiar, too linked to memories of rough callouses and hot saliva. He rubbed his face roughly, he didn't have time for his hormones. With effort he shoved the feelings aside and focused on something that had caught his eye earlier.

Cloud wore a brass clawed leather gauntlet on his left hand. It wasn't Zack's he had never seen such a glove before, it looked like a weapon, sharp and stained around the joints. He couldn't see how it came off, it almost looked like the thing was bolted into his flesh by the two massive bolt studded steel rings just below his elbow, but that would be insane. He rotated the hand in his, focusing on the large steel bands.

No, it was not bolted on, the rings moved with the skin, not the bone underneath. He let the arm fall to the dusty bed, it wasn't important.

He had to talk to Aerith, she had seemed on the verge of panic when he had given her the bags downstairs. He had a sneaking suspicion the man on the bed was the reason. Besides, if he didn't get something to eat, he was liable to pass out in a minute, his body pushed far beyond his limits. He rose from his crouch on the edge of the bed.

He cast one more Sleep spell hoping it would last until he returned. His gaze lingered before he left the room, Cloud's face was striking in profile, with high cheekbones and full lips. The seemingly permanent frown was softened somewhat with sleep, sun coloured eyebrows drawn together over hidden eyes of summer blue, Cloud really was an appropriate name for one who invoked a bright summer sky so thoroughly. And perhaps that was the greatest irony of all, there was something dark about him. It was nothing specific he could put his finger on, just an overall feeling of _wrongness_ that made him painfully aware of where the exits were.

His sigh shuddered more than he would have liked. He was all twisted inside, hormones and memory conflicting with his well earned caution. "Don't make me regret this Zack." He threatened weakly before leaving.

He missed the small smile that followed him out._ / I missed you too, Squall./_

OOOOOOOOOO

There was a gentle humming in the air. An old forgotten lullaby that brought up faded memories of gentle arms and comfort. There was something warm and human beside the bed. Cloud frowned, why hadn't he woken up?

He shifted towards the presence, eyes refusing to open, mind still struggling to wake up. Female he concluded, gentle, kind. She smelled of green growing plants and rich soil, sunlight and calm summer days filled with laugher. She smelled like the home he could barely remember.

"Mother?" He blinked his eyes open.

She chuckled softly. "Actually, my name is Aerith." Her tone held faint notes of exasperation laced amusement before clearing into something warm. "Good Morning, or what passes for morning around here anyway." Her eyes were the colour of new grass, warm and full of life. "How do you feel?" Her smile was honest and her pink dress lit up the dull room with colour.

He shook his head to clear it, waking up without the planet screaming at him was more disorienting than he thought it would be. He felt stiff. His wing was cramping something fierce, must have been laying on it all night. He sat up and looked himself over. Still wearing his armour, no wonder he was stiff. His sword was propped up on the wall within reach. How did he get in a bed?

/_Kitten cast Sleep on you._/ Zack's normally loud presence was dimmed, barely audible.

He looked around the room, there was no sign of Leon visually, but he could sense him nearby, the man's unique Light was hard to mistake for anything else. He tilted his head in confusion, unaware of how it made him look like a confused puppy, "Why?"

/_Because you were regressing_./

"Because it's a good first question to ask someone I don't know, silly."

Cloud blinked, both responses had come at once. It took him a moment to sort through the answers, it seemed he was still shaking the spell effects off. Blinking again he turned to the woman who reminded him of home, she did look concerned. Her soft brown hair framed her face and reminded him of his mother's garden for some reason.

"Why did Kit- Leon use Sleep on us?"

Her smile was bright like the sun, it took all of his strength not to flinch away. "He was just worried you might hurt yourself." She giggled, "You probably don't want him hearing you call him Kitten though." She leaned forward conspiratorially, "Only one person is allowed to get away with that."

His good hand rose unconsciously to his chest. "Zack."

Her face dimmed, "Yeah." Her eyes lingered on the Buster Sword. "Is he still alive?"

Cloud looked away, her expression was hard to look at. Torn between despair and hope, knowing the answer but needing to hear it anyway.

/_Oh Songbird, I'm so sorry._/

"Sort of." He shrugged to alleviate some of the tension he was feeling. "Depends on your definition of _alive_."

She looked at her hands, now clenched in the pink fabric of her dress. "He's a Heartless isn't he?"

Cloud tilted his head again, thinking, he wasn't exactly sure _what_ Zack was. She looked at him, confused when he didn't reply, "It's complicated." He clarified.

Movement by the door. His hand was on his blade before his brain could process that he already knew who it was.

Leon stood with his arms crossed, out of range. He looked unsurprised by the reaction. "So explain."

They regarded each other coldly for a moment before Cloud released the handle of his blade. "I need to feed." Zacks' stunt the day before had burned through their meagre energy reserves, and he really didn't want to be talking about this anymore.

Leon waved a hand, "We have food here." Something in the look he gave Cloud made a shiver run down his spine. Not fear, something else, something that made his stomach clench and his breath want to quicken.

There was a mischievous chuckle in his head that was quiet enough to be worrying.

He shook his head, it didn't matter how much food they had, it wouldn't be enough.

Aerith tilted her head, grinning brightly. "Why not? Just let me know what you like, and I'll do my best."

Cloud watched Leon's face as he replied. "What I require you cannot get. We must go hunting."

A dark eyebrow arched in curiosity. "What do expect to hunt on a world with no animal life?"

Cloud shrugged his non-winged shoulder. "Not people." A pause, should he say it was Heartless?

/_Offer to show him._/ A dark chuckle.

"If I offer to let you come, will you let us hunt?"

Leon's steel eyes locked with the vibrant green of Aerith's. Something was communicated between them, but Cloud couldn't even begin to decipher that look.

"What will happen if you don't." Leon asked after a moment.

Cloud hesitated. They might kill him if they knew. Creatures as full of Darkness as himself were never tolerated for long.

/_The truth. It's okay, trust me._/

He nodded, "In another day or so, I will be forced to hunt anything in order to survive. We might last up to a week without feeding, probably less, before…" He didn't like thinking about dying, or what ever it was that would happen if they stopped hunting Heartless.

Aerith gasped beside him. "Anything?"

He nodded.

There was silence as the dark haired man weighed his options. After a moment long enough for Cloud to consider scratching the itch on his wing, which was still tangled up in Vincent's cowl, Leon shifted, his mind made up.

"We shall leave as soon as you are ready. I expect answers however."

That was better than he was expecting. He shifted to get out of the bed.

"Aerith…" Leon gave her another of the looks that apparently said so much.

She looked between them, "I understand." She smiled again, her inner Light glowing bright enough to make Cloud flinch from it. "I will clean up here first though. You boys have fun."

He swung his sword onto his back to mask the flinch, and slid along the wall to the balcony door. "I'll wait outside." And with that he darted out the still open sliding glass, catching the edge of the roof and flipping up onto it.

"Cloud!" Leon's voice held a note of exasperation.

He heard Zack sigh in his head. /_It's been so long since I heard that tone of voice._/ A grin. /_Although I think I might be jealous that he called your name like that._/

He shrugged, his wing was screaming for him to stretch it properly and he still didn't trust Leon enough to let him see. And the girl, Aerith, contained enough Light to seriously harm him if she chose. He would hide his Darkness from her as long as he could.

/_She wouldn't do that Spike._/ Cloud snorted.

Thankfully Leon didn't come out right away. Cloud had enough time to detangle his cowl and stretch his wing fully. He had just tucked it away again when Leon hopped onto the roof. He looked less than pleased, but not angry.

"You have something against the front door?"

He shrugged, "I don't like hallways." He had been ambushed in hallways one too many times. His weapon was not designed for such close quarters. There was another reason he firmly refused to think about, ignoring the way the laughter echoed in his memory.

Leon raised an eyebrow and crossed his arms. "Are you ready?"

/_He's so adorable when you rub him the wrong way._/

Zack's smirk tugged at the corner of Cloud's mouth, "Try not to fall behind. You are the bait today." He turned and ran across the roofs, knowing the other would follow.

Zack laughed in his head at the shout of anger from Leon. "Bait!"

Leon was surprisingly quick on his feet, keeping pace with him as he leapt from roof to roof back towards where they had met. Finding a suitable gap in the buildings Cloud perched on the edge of the highest one scanning for any Heartless.

"Bait?" Leon sounded less than impressed as he crouched nearby catching his breath. "There is nothing out here but Heartless, how could I be bait?"

Cloud looked over at him, faintly glowing blue eyes telling him he had answered his own question.

Leon's eyes widened once he realized what he said. "Heartless? We are hunting Heartless? How?" His eyes narrowed in suspicion, "Why?"

"Do you know what a Heartless is?" He continued his scan, he could smell the shadow-like creatures on the wind, like tiny scratches in the back of his mind.

Leon's hand rested on his chin and his brow furrowed in what Cloud was quickly identifying as Leon's thinking pose. The frown wrinkled the smooth line of his facial scar in a way that was hard not to stare at. "The Darkness in a person's heart?"

Cloud nodded.

/_Shift closer to him._/ Zack was cackling again.

Leon's frown deepened, and Cloud shifted closer under the pretence of looking over that side of the roof. They were nearly touching now, the faint smell of worn leather and soap easy to pick up. Cloud watched out of the corner of his eye as Leon seemed to loose his train of thought, his breathing roughened slightly and Zack howled with mirth at some private joke.

Leon seemed to come back to himself with a small shake. He looked sharply at Cloud, stormy eyes narrowed to slits. "Why are we hunting Heartless?"

Cloud rested back on his heels and closed his eyes, thinking about how to phrase it, without making him seem like a monster. "Have you ever seen the larger Heartless?"

Leon shifted uncomfortably, clearly thinking along dark lines. "A few."

"They are rarer because that much Darkness is rare in a person's heart." His eyes slid open and looked over to Leon. "But Darkness is all a Heartless is."

Leon's eyes widened, "They eat each other." They narrowed again, "Then what are you to need me as bait?"

Cloud shrugged, "Your Light is stronger than Zack's. Like comparing lightning to a candle." He looked away, ignoring the rest of the 'what are you' question. "They have already started to gather." He pointed down to the square. The ground was thick with the smaller shadow-like Heartless, beady yellow eyes trying to find the hearts they could smell.

"So he has Light then." He paused, "Why do you need Darkness?"

Cloud shifted on the roof, and his hand found his chest on it's own, his voice gaining the cadence of remembered lessons, "Darkness is the essence of life. From Darkness we are born and to Darkness we return." His voice twisted suddenly with sarcasm, "We simply need more than dead plants and animals can provide." He looked back over to Leon, "So we absorb the best source of Darkness in the worlds."

Leon's mouth was slightly open, trying to work through the information. His eyes focused on the tiny shadows below them as if seeing them for the first time, trying to remember half-heard theories discovered before the sky fell as tiny coloured blocks. "But aren't hearts made of Light?" His voice was quiet, not aware he had asked aloud.

Blue eyes lost focus of their surroundings, "Fire doesn't burn without fuel, and will drown when submerged." He remembered watching a bright heart tarnish and fade away, swallowed by the very Darkness that sustained it. Completely overwhelmed in a way that made cold greasy laughter echo, as the newly born Heartless leapt uselessly at the glass. Hunger, fear, and anger blending into the screeching, scratching sound he quickly learned meant prey.

A hand brushed his arm, "Cloud?"

He reflexively jerked away, staring at Leon's pale sky tinted eyes, hand still raised towards him. Even through gloves his hand had been warm. Skin tingled from the contact and his breath roughened for a second. Leon's mask had slipped, concern and something warmer reflected back at him before being wiped away.

Cloud tore his gaze away and focused on the swarm of Heartless below them. "Feel free to join in, but stay out of my way." He shifted his weight to jump into the fray, not using his wing would be an interesting handicap.

"Don't get yourself killed." Was the droll reply.

Zack turned his head and flashed Leon a toothy grin, "I love you too Kitten." And with that they launched off the roof towards the ocean of yellow eyes.

OOOOOOOOOO

Leon jerked in surprise like he had been slapped and watched the blonde sail through the air; the Buster Sword swinging free in a graceful arc that continued into a full 360 degree turn, his feet catching and moving him forward as the flat side of the massive blade threw a wave of Heartless back in a massive semi-circle.

Now that he could watch Cloud fight he realized that the style he used was almost identical to Zack's. Modified slightly to take advantage of his smaller stature and the claw on his left hand. But there was something off about it, a piece that was missing. It was almost like he was missing a third weapon, the pauses in the otherwise seamless attacks were long enough for a weapon strike.

As he watched, unable to take his eyes off the hunting wolf, Aerith's voice seemed to float on the wind.

_"He is a Strife you say?" Her voice held a note of concern for the unconscious blonde. "Then he is like a brother. The Strife's carry the blood of the Cetra, enough to drive them to madness." Her fingers ghosted over a pale brow. Shock crossed her features and she pulled away from the blonde like she had been burned, her breath rough and unshed tears stinging at her eyes. "Squall…" She had sobbed. _

_Leon had never been jealous of the bond between Aerith and Zack, it was hard not to love her, to give her everything she desired, everything she deserved. He held her until the shock of what Cloud was passed and she looked down to the figure on the bed once more. "The Light inside of him is not his own. An empty vessel filled with Darkness not of his choosing." She shuddered and hid her face against his chest. "Broken so many times he has forgotten what whole is. Please be careful, Squall."_

The sound of his birth name had slid like greased death down his spine, a reminder of everything he had lost, of everything he had failed to protect, the last word of the dying begging for help, so many dead, all with one word on their lips; but he had nodded anyway. As far as he was concerned the man was a time bomb.

A bomb that was doing something very peculiar to the small Heartless he was surrounded with. He was not 'killing' them, if dissipating them could be called killing, he was injuring them and then throwing them back into the seething mass. What was the point of that? Leon watched intently as Cloud grabbed another small shadow in his brass claws and threw it as far as he could into the gathering swarm.

He felt a cold chill slide down his spine as the other shadows turned on the injured one, devouring it alive. Again, and again he forced the shadows to consume each other. The reason why soon became apparent.

The new Heartless was three times taller than the scuttling mass around it. The long swept back antennae trailed the ground as it opened it's horrible yellow eyes for the first time.

Cloud stared down the new arrival with a look he had once seen on a starving dog. His body blurred around the edges as he darted towards his prey. Leon felt a small stirring of pity towards the Heartless as Cloud ripped it open with his clawed hand. He retrieved his prize with the speed and skill that only becoming routine could bring. It was hard to tell at this distance, but it looked like he had ripped a black heart out of the creature's chest.

Fascinated, Leon watched as the blonde cradled the heart in his hand for a moment, seemingly oblivious to the world. The glowing eyes swarmed closer, sensing his moment of inattention. Leon opened his mouth to call out a warning as Cloud erupted into frenzied movement.

His task completed he dissipated great swaths of Heartless with every sweep of the massive Buster Sword. But his movements were slowing, it seemed that whatever reserves he had been running on were finally depleted.

Leon leapt from the roof and landed just in time to sweep a pouncing shadow away from Cloud's unprotected back as the blonde fell to one knee.

"Get up, I'll clear a path out." It was all he could do to keep the swarm off the two of them. A full belly and a few hours of rest did wonders, but it couldn't work miracles.

Using the Buster Sword as a prop Cloud struggled onto his feet, "Dammit Zack, shut up. This is your fault."

Leon narrowly avoided being gut open as a black claw slipped through his suddenly dropped guard. "I don't care who's fault it is, _get up_!"

With a great shout purplish-black flames erupted all around them. The Heartless writhed soundlessly in pain before falling back. For an instant Cloud looked like a demon lit by the cold black fires of hell, then the flames faded and he sank to the ground gasping for breath. The shadows on the ground almost seemed to curve towards the kneeling man, clinging even after the flames flickered out and the light from the street lamps should have pushed them away. Leon blinked and the shadows were all where they were supposed to be. He filed the strange after-image away for later, right now they had to get out of here.

Leon wasted no time helping the strange man to his feet. "What Materia was that?" He threw the non-clawed hand over his shoulder, supporting the wolf against his body. Trying, in vain, to ignore how the shorter man pressed against him, solid and surprisingly cool. After that much exertion he should be sweating, but this close Leon could see he wasn't. He slid his thigh behind the very sharp spikes of the other's thigh armour and forced them to move.

Cloud used the massive sword to support his weight as they shuffled away. "Hurry." Was all he said.

The walk back was rough, Cloud grew weaker and weaker until Leon was almost dragging him. Somehow they made it all the way back without being attacked again and into the small house they started from.

"Come on, it's just a little farther to your room. Just up the stairs and down the hallway."

The limp body against him suddenly stiffened, "No," his voice was just a whisper, "please no." The plea wavered in stark terror and he grew heavy as he fought with what little strength he had.

Leon quickly weighed his options, he could probably overpower the blonde but in such a weakened state that could cause damage to both of them. He could leave him here in the living room, or…

"Fine, my room is right over there." He turned them, Cloud's thigh armour digging painfully into his own as the blonde struggled. He was going to have an interesting looking bruise there.

"No hallway?" His voice was timid, terrified, young. Far younger than he looked, just how old was he? He had assumed they were of similar age.

"No hallway." He fought with the door and dragged the half-unconscious man through the living room, into his room and let him fall onto his bed. Suddenly thankful for what he had alway thought of as a strange layout.

"What do you need?" Leon prayed that it was nothing. He needed a cold shower enough as it was.

Cloud managed to roll onto his back, his bright blue eyes clouded with exhaustion. "Alone. Stay out." He fumbled in the small pouch on his belt.

Leon backed away through the door, thankful for small blessings. He had just managed to close the door behind him when the screaming moans started.

He leaned against the doorframe in shock, frozen in place by the wide range of emotions the screaming produced. One second it sounded like torture, the next sex. Hints of laughter and sobs interlaced between choked gasps and throaty moans. Disjointed and schizophrenic, like someone's sanity being rung through a strainer.

"Zack!"

Leon slid to the floor, legs tangled awkwardly beneath him, feeling like his heart had just been stabbed. Cloud had called the name like a lifeline, desperate and needy, on the brink. His heart squeezed as another great cry echoed through the door he was slumped against like a broken puppet. His body felt numb, detached, something inside him broke when he heard that name.

Cloud could have just been crazy, a strange type of multiple personalities, a purposeful imitation, anything but what that called name implied. Even if Zack wasn't really there, Cloud believed down to his core that he was.

Suddenly he wasn't sure which was worse. Zack being dead and Cloud imitating him due to insanity or cruelty. Or Zack being some sort of strange Heartless, trapped and only able to communicate through Cloud.

It felt like he was eighteen again and being told that Zack had disappeared during a routine border patrol and was presumed dead. It was a tale Leon had never believed, too many conflicting facts. Zack had not been scheduled for patrol that day; and it had happened the day after Zack had told him this crazy story of a kid called Strife, writhing in pain and screaming about falling stars and the end of the world, found during a routine monster killing mission. The incident had been swiftly covered up, everything brushed aside as the ravings of a madman.

Until the stars fell and the world ended. Then everyone was too busy surviving to wonder about the small blonde teen who predicted the whole thing, and the grinning soldier who found him.

So much pain and death could have been avoided. Maybe they could have stopped it, maybe they could have saved more.

_"Squall! Look after your sister, keep her safe." The cabin door splintered under the weight of the huge Heartless. "Run, Squall!" One last shove and the last magazine slid home with the finality of the sky breaking. A whisper, "I'm coming home Raine," made him take one last glance, there was nothing he could do, someone had to hold them back, give the rest of them a chance. Desperate flight through the escape tunnel, the echo of gunfire almost masking the cursing. "RUN! DON'T LOOK BACK! RUN!" _

A doomed man's final wish, and he hadn't been able to do even that right.

_"SQUAAAAAHHHHHH!"_

His sister died screaming his name, torn apart into so much meat. All because he hadn't been strong enough to hold on to her when she tripped. There had been so much blood, endless rivers of blood. It took five people to restrain him, to drag him into the crude structure made of brightly coloured blocks as the ground they stood on cracked and fell away into darkness.

Seeing the painful past in his thousand yard stare, hearing screams both remembered and current, tears falling unnoticed down his cheeks; he stayed slumped against the door long after the house fell silent and the streetlights dimmed in a parody of the sun's cycle.

It wasn't the first sleepless night Leon spent listening to the dead scream his name.

It also wouldn't be the last.

* * *

Notes: Traverse Town is a world that changes over time. Sections are added and moved almost at random as the world adds to itself. The three districts don't exist at this time and the first district is a sprawling mess of houses centred around the world gate and bordering wall.

- Yes, Leon is wearing his FF8 outfit. Yes, he will get his KH outfit by time the KH plot begins. No, I'm not going to spoil where or why.


End file.
